


Pizza

by Heliocat



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: 80s, Banter, Cute, Fluff, Food, Italian Mafia, M/M, Male Friendship, New York City, Pizza, Shounen-ai, massachusetts accent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:42:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22958878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heliocat/pseuds/Heliocat
Summary: Bored of eating Japanese-style food for Eiji's sake, Ash takes Eiji out for a proper New York pizza.Cute, fluffy drabble.
Relationships: Ash Lynx & Okumura Eiji
Comments: 7
Kudos: 60





	Pizza

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is my very first AO3 post. Huzzah!  
> Thanks to Kittypher (MizukiPerry) for being my muse and partner in Ash Lynx appreciation, and to Akimi Yoshida for creating Banana Fish - this is a work of fanfiction, so I own none of the intellectual property  
> I should explain that my personal headcanon is that Ash speaks with a Massachusetts accent with a slight Irish lilt from his early childhood in Cape Cod, but has lost it slightly during his time in New York. He is a little embarrassed by it. Another personal headcanon is that a live-action Griff is just Matt Damon circa 'Saving Private Ryan', but that's another thing entirely...  
> Please note, anything written <"like this"> is Eiji talking in Japanese. I'm English, so I use British spelling. And it's rated T for a little bit of language.

“I made breakfast,” Eiji shouted from the kitchen. “Ash! Wake up! Breakfast!”

Ash groaned and rolled over under the sheets, reluctant to leave. It always took Ash a long while to wake up, and when he did he was usually in a bad mood. Until Eiji dropped into his life unexpectedly, his gang would leave him well alone first thing in the morning. If he had anything to be awake early for, he would have to set multiple alarm clocks as, after he knocked Bones’ front teeth out, they were petrified to wake him up for fear of violence. Eiji, however, was either blind to danger, or just didn’t care, plus he awoke with the lark most mornings.

Damn Japanese, with their punctuality and sensibilities…

Still, it was nice to have a proper breakfast every morning. When he wasn’t ‘on duty’ for Papa Dino, and would receive a full spread of varying fancy foods first thing each morning for his troubles, he’d gotten used to just stuffing a bit of toast and some coffee down his throat, or else skipping it entirely. Having Eiji around was like having a doting wife, albeit an exotically foreign one.

“Ash! You want me come hit you with pillow? Breakfast! Now!”

A rather pissy doting wife, Ash thought.

With a sigh, he dragged himself from the warmth of the bed and staggered into the kitchen. As usual, Eiji had made a Japanese-style breakfast, with a bowl of rice, some miso soup, and a few side dishes. Ash didn’t mind the rice and miso, but the sides sometimes threw his delicate American palate off. He had vowed never to eat natto again, that was for sure!

“Rice again?” he murmured, dropping heavily into one of the chairs.

“What wrong with rice?” asked Eiji. “Shorter ate rice for breakfast too. It good staple food.”

“Nothing’s wrong with it, it’s just unusual for me, is all,” Ash shrugged. “What’s with it today?”

“Salmon,” Eiji pointed to a small pink fish dish. “And a kobachi vegetable dish. Ano… think it called ‘kale’ in English. Green bitter leaf, like spinach, curly edge.”

“As long as there’s no stinky foot beans it’s all cool,” he said, picking up a pair of chopsticks and getting stuck in.

<”Natto doesn’t smell of feet,”> Eiji muttered to himself in Japanese. <”It’s very good for you. Your ‘delicate American tastebuds’ are missing out! Might stick that filthy mouth of yours closed for a while too…”>

“If you’re gonna grumble, at least grumble in a language I understand,” Ash groaned.

Eiji casually flicked him the bird. “You understand that, Yankee?” he said.

“Fucking wise-ass,” Ash griped while Eiji sniggered at him. “What would you know about decent food anyway?”

“More than you, look like,” Eiji shrugged. “I make nutritious breakfast every day. Complain all want, food I make is good for you. Remember, I was athlete in Japan. Had to be in peak fitness, so ate well.”

“I don’t mean eating well - I’ve had to watch my weight for years too, y’know,” Ash told him. “Nah, I mean eating decent food. Like, what American food have you eaten since you came over here?”

“Ibe-san and I had a McDonalds,” Eiji said.

“Because that’s as American as apple pie,” Ash rolled his eyes. “Anything else?”

“Just what Charlie recommended,” Eiji admitted. “Charlie mainly eat sand-witch and yuppie salads. I eat hot dog, hospital food, few other things. I eat what Shorter cooked, which was Chinese. And then I eat what you get me. It mainly been Japanese, but not proper Japanese. You Americans never quite get taste right. Have strange ideas. Avocado sushi? Really?”

“That’s it?”

“Yes. Not like had time to get food, Ash,” Eiji said, pointing at him accusingly with his chopsticks. “Been busy on run, trying to not die, then stuck in apartment with you. Only reason you get breakfast is I give Bones and Kong list and they get ingredient for me. Do not get out much without guard.”

“Hmm…”

“What?”

“You’re seriously missing out, man,” Ash told him, shaking his head sadly. “We will have to change that.”

“Not like situation going to change any time soon,” Eiji mumbled, ruffled.

“No, but how do you think I’ve been coming and going freely?” Ash said. “Disguises exist. Later, let’s get you dressed up nice, and I’m taking you out for some real American food.”

“You sure?”

“You’re not a princess in a tower, Eiji,” said Ash. “I know I said to stay in here, but you’ll be with me. It’ll be good for you to get out and experience good ol’ American culture before it’s too late!”

“I see enough guns already, thanks,” Eiji replied sarcastically. “All cultured out!”

“You’ll be safe as houses with me.”

“It sound like date…”

“You wish!” Ash snorted. “You couldn’t afford me.”

“Would not want waste money anyway,” Eiji countered, smirking. Ash returned Eiji’s earlier middle finger with one of his own.

******

“So where going?” Eiji asked, trotting along besides Ash like an excited Pomeranian walking to heel. Ash had lent him some clothes that roughed up his usually neat and manicured appearance. He was wearing a ripped pair of jeans slightly too big and long for him, so they flopped over his sneakers, an oversized printed T-shirt with the words ‘Choose Life’ emblazoned in black letters, and his old red varsity jacket, which Eiji frequently borrowed anyway. He had also forced a pair of Shorter’s old sunglasses onto his face, and had slicked his usually soft and floppy hair back with a handful of hair pomade into a sleek bro flow. He didn’t look himself at all, but that was the whole point.

Ash, meanwhile, was in his usual innocent rich college-kid disguise that he usually wore to meet up with Max; beige Burberry coat with long cashmere scarf, sensible shirt and slacks, round glasses and long hair obscuring his face. He changed his posture and demeanour naturally to match the persona, suddenly losing all the hard edges and confidence to become a meek and mild spoiled teenager from an affluent family. Eiji knew, however, that he was packing heat under that fancy coat, his Smith and Wesson tucked safely into the belt of his slacks where it was quick and easy to access.

“You’ll see,” Ash told him, keeping a wary eye on every passer-by. Any one of them could be in cahoots with the mafia. They could be recognised at any time. They descended into the subway, Ash putting them on a train to Lower Manhattan.

“Calm down!” he hissed at Eiji, who was fidgeting excitedly as they rode the rickety old subway train.

“Sorry,” he said. “But this my first time on American subway!”

“It’s the same as any subway,” Ash said. “You have subways in Tokyo, right?”

“But I am not from Tokyo – I keep saying! I’m from Izumo!”

“A train is a train,” Ash sighed. “Just… keep your tourist boner in your pants, alright?”

They hopped off the train at Grand Street station, Ash leading them down Mulbery Street and into the Little Italy district of Manhattan.

“We should be safe here,” he muttered. “This area is run by the Italians… they’re pretty cool. They don’t like Golzine much.”

“Italians..?” Eiji asked, confused until the penny dropped. “Italian Mafia?!”

“Shhhh!” Ash shushed him. “They’re not as big here as they used to be – a lot of the Italians have moved out and Chinatown has started to move in, but they still have a stronghold over the area.”

They darted into a side-street and Ash took them into a dark little restaurant. A sign above the door named the place as ‘Stefano’s’. Inside, there were very few customers, and the few that were there turned to stare at the newcomers with varying levels of suspicion and wariness.

A young, skinny man wearing a striped apron approached them. He looked Mediterranean in appearance, his olive skin naturally tanned and his short hair dark and thick and wavy. His expression was grumpy, the frown emphasised by his impressively lush eyebrows… but his demeanour changed when he got closer and recognised Ash.

“AH!” he exclaimed, breaking into a wide grin. “Ash Lynx! I almost didn’t recognise you in that fancy get-up! It’s been a while!”

“Hey Leo,” Ash greeted him fondly. They exchanged a brief bro-hug, Leo patting him on the back a couple of times before they disengaged. “How’s it hangin’?”

“Where you been, man?” Leo said. “We all thought you was dead! It was on the news and everything! Rumour was the Corsicans finally had enough of your blonde ass and had it wiped.”

“It’s complicated, Leo,” Ash said. “I’m laying low at the moment, so…”

“I didn’t see you,” Leo nodded knowingly. He noticed Eiji, nervously standing off to the side. “This one of Shorter’s boys? Chinese?”

“Nah, he’s Japanese,” Ash said. “I’m babysitting him for a bit.”

“I am no baby!” Eiji interjected, annoyed. “I am older than you!”

“This is Eiji Okamura,” Ash said. “Eiji, this is Leo Valentino. He’s a reliable friend.”

“I was part of the kid division of the Purple Gang,” Leo explained. “Ash came fresh outta juvie and he and his boys was running with Shorter and the Chinatown mafia, and we always got on well with the Chinatowners so we became allies. Those were the days, right?”

“Purple gang?” Eiji looked shocked. The East Harlem Purple Gang was notorious – so much so that even a sheltered Japanese teenager had heard of them.

“Leo went straight two years back,” Ash assured Eiji. “He took over his dad’s business.”

“Yeah, I only deal in pizza now,” Leo laughed.

“My boy do wicked good pizza,” Ash said. “You ever had pizza before?”

“We have pizza in Japan,” Eiji said, frowning. “How backward you think we are?”

“You got a pretty strong accent on you there, kid,” Leo observed.

“I cannot help accent,” Eiji said quietly, slightly offended. “English is hard…”

“Not you – I meant this Beantowner!” Leo laughed. “I’ve missed your Boston lilt.”

“I’m an Islander - I come from down the Cape! I ain’t no Beantowner!” Ash denied.

<”He doesn’t eat beans for a start…”> Eiji muttered under his breath.

“Come, let me get you boys a table for two,” Leo said jovially, leading them deeper into the restaurant. “I’ll hide you out back if you’re trying to stay out the public eye. These guys here at the moment are all cool, but we get all sorts in here and I can’t vouch for everyone.”

“Thanks Leo, you’re a real pal,” Ash said gratefully. They followed him through a set of swing doors and into the kitchen, Leo pointing to a narrow bar-like set up off to the side where the staff would usually take a break.

“I’ll do the usual for you, Ash,” Leo said with a wink. “One New Yorker for the Massachusetts massive!”

“I swear, Leo, I will remove some of your pearly whites…” Ash threatened him, making a fist. “So help me God…”

Hidden from the public, they dropped their disguises a bit. Ash removed his coat and scarf before sitting down, and Eiji took off the sunglasses so he could see in the gloom. He looked around with interest. The kitchen had a traditional clay pizza oven in the corner, the pleasant heat radiating out of it felt from over in their corner.

“You wanna watch him work,” Ash told Eiji, gesturing with his thumb at Leo. “He’s a master at this.”

Eiji observed as Leo produced a ball of pre-made pale dough from a proving cupboard. He manipulated it a bit, kneading it a few times to the right consistency, and then began stretching it out with an expert hand. After a few press-pulls on the countertop, he carefully slid the dough onto his forearm and then, in an impressive display of skill and dexterity, started to spin it in the air, adjusting it slightly on his palm to keep momentum and stretch the dough evenly.

“Uwaaah!” Eiji said. <”Impressive!”>

“Sue– goy?” Ash frowned at him.

“Sugoi? Oh. It mean ‘cool’,” Eiji explained. “Leo is cool. He throw dough above head like in movies!”

“Sugoi…” Ash repeated, filing the word away for future reference. Little by little, hanging out with Eiji and, to a lesser extent, Ibe, Ash was learning several Japanese words and phrases. No doubt they may come in handy someday.

Leo spread the now-stretched dough with marinara sauce and shredded mozzarella, before sliding a wooden paddle under it and slipping it into the clay oven to bake. He dusted off his hands to remove the excess flour and disappeared back into the main restaurant area, leaving Ash and Eiji alone.

“I cannot believe you take me all this way for pizza,” Eiji said.

“Hey, you want authentic American food, you gotta come direct to the source,” Ash told him, smiling. “Look, if you’re worried about the risks of being out of hiding, don’t be! I said, didn’t I? The Italians don’t much like the Corsicans, but me and my boys have always been neutral and you can trust Leo.”

“I not worried about that,” Eiji said. “I trust you. Probably should not, but do.”

“Yeah, you’re a fool alright,” Ash agreed.

“He mentioned Shorter. Does he know Shorter is-“

“Shhhh… probably best not to mention it,” Ash suggested. “The truth will come out eventually, but… I don’t want trouble considering I was the one who…”

“I am sorry.”

Leo reappeared then, and opened the little hatch on the pizza oven. The kitchen became perfumed with the enticing scent of fresh bread and grilled cheese. He slid the wooden paddle back into the fiery depths and retrieved the pizza, slipping it hot and steaming onto a huge, flat plate. He produced a pizza cutting wheel from the pocket of his apron and rolled it over the pizza half-a-dozen times, then wiped it with a tea towel and dropped it back in his pocket. He picked up the pizza and brought it to their table, plonking it down with a flourish.

“Here ya go boys – one New Yorker,” Leo proclaimed proudly. “Enjoy!”

“It so big!” Eiji observed, a little overwhelmed at the sheer size of the pizza up close. The crust was paper-thin and crispy around the edges, and the entire thing was roughly the size of a cartwheel.

“It’s a New Yorker,” Ash shrugged. “That’s just how it is. Dig in!”

Ash grabbed a slice and folded it in two along the crust to make it easier to eat. Eiji copied him, picking up the smallest of the giant slices and trying not to drip grease on his shirt, holding the sloppy crust up delicately with the fingers of his opposite hand so it wouldn’t flop over. He took a tentative bite of the pizza slice, pulling at the stringy cheese with his teeth. He chewed a couple of times, and his eyes went wide. He exclaimed something in Japanese that sounded, to Ash’s ears, like ‘Oh shit’.

“This is delicious!” he said in English. “This is pizza?”

“You said you’d had pizza in Japan,” Ash said.

“Not like this!” Eiji said, shocked. “Japan pizza is smaller. This has… a lot of cheese.”

“Well, cheese is the food of the Gods,” Ash smirked. “Americans use it on everything. You like?”

“I like,” Eiji said happily, his words muffled around a large mouthful of dough. It didn’t take him long to finish his first slice and start energetically on a second.

The two boys between them managed a good three-quarters of the pie before it beat them.

“You want another slice,” Ash teased Eiji. He got a groan in response.

“No. I am full…” he said, sounding uncomfortable. “I eat more, I explode.”

“Suit yourself. I’ll get a doggy bag. Dinner tomorrow sorted!”

Ash requested a take-away box for the remaining slices, and then settled the bill with Leo.

“Ash, you know better than to pay me for a little pizza,” Leo told him. “We Italians feed our friends – we charge our enemies!”

“I insist, Leo,” Ash pressed a few notes into his hands. “You’ve done us a solid. Consider it a tip. Compliments to the chef.”

“When you put it like that…” Leo tucked the notes into his apron. “Thanks Ash. Come again any time. We’ll keep you hidden.”

“This is why I keep coming back,” Ash told him, pulling his coat back on and draping the scarf around his neck, resuming his college-boy façade. “You’re alright, ya know that Leo?”

“So I’m told,” Leo bragged. “I’ll let you boys out the back – we got a few newbies in there now, don’t want to take any risks.”

They left through the fire exit and found themselves in a narrow alley, flanked by apartment buildings and inhabited by dumpsters and the local stray cats. Eiji followed Ash back to the subway, feeling sluggish after a large, heavy meal. He found himself drifting in and out of sleep as they rode the rickety train back, the combination of being fat and happy and gently swayed by the motion of the carriage lulling him into unconsciousness. He eventually succumbed, leaning against Ash and napping most of the journey home. Ash, however, was on the alert the whole time. Since leaving the alley, he had experienced the uncomfortable sensation of being watched. It was probably nothing, but he was on edge all the way back to the apartment. He only relaxed once they were safely inside, the door locked, the curtains closed, and the pizza leftovers stored in the fridge.

“I think I like American food,” Eiji said, flopping face-first onto the sofa. “I eat too much though… cannot move.”

“So, is it better than Japanese food?” Ash asked him, busying himself putting some coffee on to brew.

“No,” Eiji answered immediately. “Definitely not. But it close!”

“You are hard to please,” Ash sighed.

“High standards,” Eiji murmured into the sofa cushions.

“Still, the taste of home is always going to be the best, I suppose,” Ash said. “Won’t stop me trying to convince you otherwise. Next time, we go Jewish! You haven’t lived until you’ve had a decent bagel!”

<”I’m going to get fat in America…”> Eiji moaned.

“And if you like fish, we have Clam Chowder or Lobster Newberg…” Ash added. Something occurred to Eiji then, something which he hadn’t really noticed before, but the more he heard Americans speak the more noticeable it became. Something about the way Ash had pronounced ‘lobster’…

“Leo right,” he said, sitting up again to look at him over the back of the sofa. “You do have accent!”

“Fuck off!” Ash swore at him. Eiji ducked back down, laughing, as Ash lobbed a soft cushion from one of the kitchen chairs at him. "Last person I wanna hear that from is you!"

**Author's Note:**

> For those who don't known any Japanese... Eiji did not actually say 'Oh Shit' at the pizza - he said 'Oishii', which roughly translates as 'tasty' or 'delicious'.


End file.
